Afternoon Delight
by Lady Etiquette
Summary: Mary and Matthew find themselves in a compromising position in the middle of the day. Naturally, smut follows. Thank you to Julian Fellowes and these wonderful characters!


A few people have mentioned on tumblr that there hasn't been any fluff posted recently (especially since the CS.) This little fic isn't much, but it's a bit of stolen romance for M/M. Enjoy!

* * *

Downton Abbey – Summer 1920

Adjusting his necktie as he walked along the second floor hallway, Matthew slowed his pace and stepped quietly up to the door of their bedroom. It was ajar and he leaned closer to see if he could hear anything, which he didn't. Touching his fingertips to it, he silently nudged the door open wider, peering in to the room. The afternoon sunlight filtered in through the sheer curtains and he smiled at the sight of Mary.

She stood across the room, in front of her vanity, unwrapping a bottle of perfume. She admired the small crystal bottle with an inquisitive brow and carefully but purposefully removed the stopper and held the open bottle underneath her nose. As she breathed in, her eyes closed at the heavenly scent. She inhaled another whiff and dabbed the stopper behind her ears, luxuriating in the heady fragrance.

And she sensed that her husband was sneaking up behind her…

Matthew tip-toed across the room delighted to find her alone. He regretted that their first months of marriage were being shared in view of the entire family, with little opportunity to be alone. He stopped directly behind her, peeking just over her shoulder. "Ah," he whispered next to her hear, "is that the perfume you ordered?"

"Mmm- hmm." She hummed and nodded.

"Is it a new choice?" His warm breath caressed the shell of her hear.

She glanced at him from the side of her eyes. "Yes," she whispered in her deep, velvety voice. "It's called Le Petite Mort."

His brilliant blue eyes gazed at her, and he bent his head, tenderly nuzzling the tip of his nose under her ear. He breathed in deeply, taking in the perfume and the feel of her hair brushing against his cheek. "Are you aware of what that means in French?" He asked delicately against her skin.

She playfully angled her head, exposing more of her neck to him, and chuckled. "Yes, I am familiar with its French poetic meaning."

He kissed her ear lobe breathing in the exotic fragrance with hints of vanilla, rose and almond. His senses, and his body, were addicted. "Oh, God, Mary, you smell good enough to devour."

Her eyes slid closed at the vibration and suggestion in his voice. His warm moist whisper against her ear sent shivers throughout her, and she temporarily lost her balance and leaned back against his strong, warm chest. Her mind felt drugged as she tried to remember the last time they had been intimate. Two days? She thought…maybe three. It had been at night, when they went to bed, rather hurried and fast.

His hands slid around her waist, gently pulling her up against him, the outline of her bottom fitting perfectly against his center. He kissed her cheek and ear, the tip of his tongue gingerly touching her ear in an intimate of caress. Her perfume intoxicated him and the feel of her body ratcheted the arousal flowing through him, a combination he knew he wouldn't be able to suppress—nor did he want to.

Mary's head fell back against his shoulder. "Matthew…" she murmured. She was slightly incoherent, speaking but not really hearing what she said.

He grazed his lips along her ear and down to her neck, kissing her, and then paused. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier." His deep voice was affectionate and hushed.

His words caught her off guard and caused her to open her eyes and look over at him. Her look was soft and tender. "For what?"

"Earlier today," he started, his mouth just inches from hers, "when you were in the nursery making plans for our sitting room and I questioned you about your visit to Dr. Clarkson."

"Oh, yes, that," was all she added.

He sighed, speaking only above a whisper. "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I didn't mean to." He rested his chin on her shoulder and the corners of his lips turned up in an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid I was a bachelor for such a long time that I'm a little clumsy about ladies things; and I apologize if I said anything that might have offended you or made you feel put off." His arms around her and her body up against his, he looked at her and waited until she answered…until she accepted his apology.

Mary blinked, realizing her rebuff in the nursery had hurt. "I think I'm the one who should apologize." She touched her forehead against his temple. "You're my husband, Matthew." She ran a finger tip over his hand on her waist. "It's perfectly alright if you ask about my doctor appointments." She shrugged self consciously. "It's just new to me, too. I'm not used to having a husband. I shouldn't be so sensitive about such inquiries from you, and promise not to be in the future."

"Well, I won't bug you about it," he said brushing his lips over her cheek. "I know if you have something to tell me, you will."

She nodded, rubbing her head against his. "You'll be the first to know." He smiled gently and kissed her lips, kissing her once and then twice, sweetly and chastely. She sighed and parted her lips for him, a subtle request to deepen their kiss. He obliged her and opened his mouth, sharing a breath as his tongue lapped at her lower lip. She shuddered at the sensation as he covered her mouth with his, kissing her fully. Her hand moved up to caress his cheek, her fingertips touching his ear, sending tingles throughout his body. He still reveled in it, loving the sensations that they had been denied for so long.

He lightly tugged her hand to turn her around to face him, like an intimate dance. They momentarily broke the kiss, catching their breaths as she turned and ran her hands up over his chest. Mary looked up in to the depths of his blue eyes, which were hooded and serious with desire. She started to lean-up on her tip-toes, but he bent his head and met her half way—as was the case in everything they did—kissing her and leaning her up against the vanity, pressing himself against her to feel as much of her as he could.

Matthew's arms wrapped around her, hugging her against him, his hands swirling around her back, warmly messaging and enticing her. She tenderly nipped at his tongue, causing his hips to jerk against her, and the tiny bottles on the vanity announced his intent with a soft clatter, which they both shared a knowing chuckled at.

Mary opened her mouth, welcoming him deeper and the long moan of arousal that hummed from his mouth in to hers. With one arm around his neck, she moved her other arm down, her hand gracefully sliding over the buttons of his vest and then further down where the palm of her hand tantalizingly brushed the front of his trousers. Her fingertips trailed the outline of his length, eliciting a long lingering moan from him. Feeling his response to her touch, her heart thumped in her chest, her love and desire filling her with every kiss and caress.

He kissed a trail of hot wet kisses from her lips over her jaw, breathing harder but trying to catch his breath. Her head fell back as he kissed her neck and she pressed the palm of her hand against him slightly harder, framing her hand around the growing desire she felt under his clothing. A strangled gasp hitched in his throat as he kissed the slope of her neck. "Oh, God, Mary, please…" His hands moved up the sides of her body, caressing the sides of her breasts through the silk fabric of her dress.

She moved her other hand from his neck in to his hair, the feel of his body and hot kisses unraveling her will-power and untying the coil insider her womb, making her feel wet and ready…always for him. Instinctively, she moved a leg, allowing him to step in to her, pressing himself against her, as their mouths continued to slide and suck and drink from each other. His hips moved and she could feel his aroused body rub against her most intimate area…hot and hard. It caused her to gasp and catch her breath, while he panted against her cheek. She wanted it and needed it, but always with him.

"Mary? Matthew?" Robert's voice broke the quiet, sensual sounds of their room.

Matthew stopped. They stood frozen and waited in silence, except for the sounds of their breathing.

Robert's voice came from down the hall again. "Are you ready to go with Ma-Ma and me in to Ripon?"

Matthew rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed and breathing through his nose. Mary eyed him. She could feel his need, raw and powerful, burning from within him and under her hand. She remembered when they returned from their honeymoon and he had requested they live in their own home for a while, "So we can get to know each other better," he had said. Suddenly she hated herself for brushing the notion aside to remain at Downton. This is what he had been talking about. A sense of privacy and seclusion…the freedom to be alone. Instead, they were still sneaking around as though they were in someone else's home.

"Did you hear me Mary? Are you there?" Her father's voice floated from the hallway again, polite and courteous, but waiting for a reply.

Matthew's eyes fluttered open and he looked at her and whispered. "I'm sorry." He sighed gently against her. "It's alright if you need to go. I know you had planned it."

As she looked at him she saw that the blue of his eyes was gone, replaced by black desire, his pupils dilated in to onyx orbs. Despite the soft understanding in his voice, his eyes and body revealed the taut sexual need within him. Downton had always been her home, but now she realized that it no longer was. _He was her home_. Matthew, who had always been her husband in her heart, was where her heart now resided…it was his voice and his love that now guided her.

"If it's alright with you, Pa-pa," she called out softly but so he could hear, "I'm in the middle of something so I think I'll stay behind today." She held Matthew's gaze and kissed his cheek.

"Yes, of course," Robert replied without delay. "Can we bring you anything?"

Mary smiled. "No, thank you. I have everything I need right here." Her hug encouraged Matthew and he nuzzled her ear again. Robert's footsteps disappeared down the hall, away from them, until they faded altogether.

"I love you," he whispered almost silently in to her ear.

She kissed his temple, his cheek, his lips and the tip of his nose, until he chuckled. "Do you think we should close the door?"

He huffed and nodded. "I'll get it." Matthew pulled himself away from her, immediately feeling cool air against his warm body. As he crossed the room to quietly shut the door, he tugged at his necktie, pulling it loose and tossing it over a chair.

Mary had never moved, still standing by the vanity, but removed the necklace she had been wearing. As he walked to rejoin her, he shrugged his jacket off, and she helped him slide it from his arms, and together they tossed it over the vanity stool. "Where was I?" He asked teasingly, his voice filled with suggestion.

"About to disrupt my vanity, I think." She nudged him backward until he bumped up against the bed frame, causing him to sit down on the mattress with a bounce. She ran several fingers through his hair, watching as he almost purred like a kitten at her touch.

His fingers found the buttons down the front her dress and one-by-one began pulling them open. His hands tenderly but efficiently pushed the dress open, revealing her peach camisole. He leaned forward and placed delicate kisses over her décolletage as his hands moved gracefully and erotically over her breasts, his fingertips pausing at the outline of her stiff nipples to stroke them through the silk. He moved his hands so that the camisole and the dress began to slip from one of her shoulders, down her arm, revealing her breast to him. He leaned forward and placed tiny kisses all around her flesh, avoiding the peak. Mary's hands clutched in his hair, as if to silently beg him. At last his tongue swirled around the cameo colored tip, peaking it even further, before suckling it in to his mouth.

Mary's hands instinctively pulled his head closer, her body wanting more from him. One of his hands moved under her skirt and caressed her thigh, causing a groan to hitch in her chest. His fingertips found her their way under her lingerie, and he found her wet core.

"Lady Mary?" Anna's voice came from the other side of their door.

This time Matthew's movements didn't pause. He was beyond it now, the point of no return having passed moments earlier. He angled his head at her breast to taste more of her as his fingers continued to slip between her legs, his hand slick from her desire.

Mary's hands fisted in the cotton of his shirt on his shoulders, holding herself up as she felt herself about to fall over. She thought she might scream, but instead found what remained of her sanity. "What is it Anna?" She knew if she used a certain tone and words, Anna would not enter.

Anna's voice was distant from the other side of the door. "I have the dress you wanted for this evening, milady?"

Mary's eyes were shut. The room and her mind were spiraling, filled with love and lust, and all she could feel were his hands, his lips, his tongue and his need. His fingers slid between her folds, tenderly scraping her swollen bud. She was already so close she thought she might burst in to flames.

He whispered against her nipple, "I want you so much."

The feel of his breath against her wet skin pulled a moan from deep inside her. She bit her lip and shivered with anticipation but she found her voice. "It's alright, Anna. Why don't you leave them in Mr. Crawley's dressing room?"

"Yes, Milady," Anna replied efficiently and her footsteps disappeared down the hallway.

Holding Matthew's head in her hands, she bent over and kissed him, their mouths hot and wet and hungry. His hands pulled at her dress and camisole until they slipped down her torso and fell to the floor. Mary nudged him back on the bed, leaning over him. ""Our bed makes little noises when were together in it," she said breathlessly, "At this time of day we'll have to be quiet."

He pulled back and reached up to frame her face with his hands. "I'm afraid that might not be an option for me." He huffed as he leaned up, grabbing several pillows and tossing them on to the floor. He carefully tugged her arm to follow him as he knelt on the floor beside the bed.

She looked astonished. "The floor? You must be joking!" She whispered loudly.

He looked at her with a hand held out, beckoning her to him. His lips were wet and pink from kissing, his hair touselled around his head and his shirt and pants were gaping open. His eyes were black and glittering at her. "Do I look like I'm joking?" He said, panting, as he reached for her and tugged her.

Mary was playfully dismayed, but she knelt on the floor with him anyway. As he kissed her, her hands and fingers made quick work of removing his shirt and under shirt, and pushed his trousers down. She reached for him, wanting to touch him—to caress him—but his hands gently pushed her back until she reclined on the pillows. "No time for that, darling," he murmured against her neck as he buried his face in her throat.

Mary chuckled softly pulling him against her, her hands helping his body find her, guiding his arousal to her center. He put a hand under one of her legs and opened her more to him, and they met in a long slow, delirious slick slide until he was embedded deep inside her.

As he began to move he never took his eyes off of hers, staring in to the vastness of her dark brown depths, as she began to tumble . "Le Petite Mort," he whispered as he kissed her. Almost instantly, she was lost, trying to muffle the sounds of her release against his shoulder as he pushed deeper and harder, drawing out her ecstasy with every thrust of his body. Watching her overwhelmed him, his arousal straining to be freed. His hips pushed them together harder, deeper and faster. She felt herself coming apart again and tried to hold herself still by gripping the leg of the nightstand. As he pounded in to her she fleetingly thought how grateful she was that, indeed, they were not on the bed.

He was breathing and panting in rhythm with his movements. He tried to last as long as he could, but the ache inside him was too much. "I can't…" he huffed against her neck as his body began to let go.

"Matthew," she whispered achingly. She wrapped a leg around his hip. "Please…"

Her voice, her body, their secrets, hot and slippery and deep. He began to unwind, coming undone, over her and around her; his release uncoiled inside of him, preparing his body to fill her with love and promise and everything he had to offer her. His body shook and jerked as spasms of bliss tore him apart. He tried to restrain his climax, wanting to conceal his rapture, crying out in to her neck, a primal declaration of his passion and devotion and intent, his body overjoyed to let go…falling and filling inside of her.

* * *

Hunstanton, Norfolk – Eastern Shore, Three Weeks Later

The idea had originally been Mary's: to steal away, no servants or staff, and to be entirely alone. Just the two of them. Robert had suggested the family's retreat home in Salisbury, but Mary had declined. She and Matthew had decided that they wanted—and needed—to be entirely away on their own, and that also meant away from the Grantham trappings…no paintings or photos of grandparents, aunts, relatives, or family hunting dogs, staring down at them. Matthew contacted a law school acquaintance who dabbled in real estate. He offered an ocean cottage for rent and Matthew jumped at it. He still performed estate business from an office in the cottage, and Mary competently handled some of their meals, or they dined out.

She stood in front of the large bay window in the bedroom, looking out over the shore in the early morning light as the sounds of the water drifted in to the room and throughout the cottage. Without Anna, her hair was down around her shoulders. It was too chilly to wear a negligee in the mornings, so she wore a satin dressing gown. Matthew returned with two coffee cups—no saucers. He hadn't shaved or combed his hair properly in two days. Mary couldn't remember seeing him so handsome or relaxed. Instead of a robe, he had a blanket draped around his naked body, so when he handed Mary her cup he also gave her a peek at his form along with a smile. "Good morning," he said kissing her cheek.

She smiled and leaned in to his affection and took a sip of the hot brew. "Mmmm, this is wonderful. Where did you learn to make such lovely coffee?"

He laughed. "The military taught me many skills, including the perfect cup of coffee." He glanced out the window as he drank from his cup.

Mary watched him and admired him, handsome and sated in their private world here. The cottage was beautiful, and the bedroom was littered with clothing, several empty wine bottles, baby oil and a large bouquet of flowers Matthew had ordered. The bed had remained unmade since their arrival. It was disheveled and ready for sex, like her husband. She reached up and brushed his hair from his eyes. "You know, I think I like your hair this way."

He smiled and kissed her again. "I look like a felon." He moved to stand behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and murmured in her ear. "Let's do this every year. More if we can work it out."

She loved the feel of his warmth against her back. "Are you suggesting we buy the cottage?"

"Maybe," he said gazing out at the sea and sipping his coffee. "It wouldn't be a bad investment. It's a lovely home and the ocean view is breathtaking. And it would be a private place, all to ourselves."

Mary liked the idea and drank delicately from her cup. "We'll have to update its nursery."

Matthew took another sip of coffee, tightened his arm around her, and stared out at the sea. "I don't think it needs another sitting room as there's already that large living room off the foyer.

"No, no, I mean, we'll have to update the nursery." She smiled as she took another sip, waiting for his reaction. She felt him move. He dipped his head to see her better and stepped around in front of her.

"What are you saying?" His voice, like his expression, was filled with surprise.

She smiled and wiggled her hips playfully. "I'm saying that if we were to come back here in a year we would need a nursery for a little person…someone who would be around five months old."

"Oh, my God." He looked panic stricken but happy. "You're going to have a baby?"

"You said you wanted to be the first to know." She nodded and leaned forward, pressing herself up against him. "In about seven months."

He reached over and set his cup down on the window sill, then blinked at her. "Oh, Mary!" He laughed self consciously. "When did you find out?"

"Well," she spoke cautiously knowing he might become cross, "I stretched the truth a bit with you several weeks ago when I told you I went to see Clarkson for my hay fever." She looked up at him from under her lashes. He started to say something but she interrupted him. "The reason I fibbed is because we weren't sure and I didn't want to get your hopes up. He just telephoned yesterday and confirmed it."

A warm, infectious smile lit up his face. "Oh, my darling," he exhaled as he wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her lips, cheeks and nose. "I can't tell you…" He was speechless. "I feel like I've jumped over the moon!"

She placed her cheek against his chest and hugged him. "I'm so glad, Matthew, I truly am!" He suddenly froze, prompting her to look up at him. "What is it?"

"Oh my God…" He looked aghast.

Mary became concerned. "What?"

His hands gripped her arms. "That means you were already pregnant when I…when we," he skipped the mid-part of the sentence and got to the point, "you know, that afternoon _on the bedroom floor."_

"Yes, so?"

He pressed his lips together. "Well, just that, everything we've done. My God , Mary…last night _on the kitchen counter!_" He was whispering again.

She reached up and brushed his hair from his brow. "You don't have to watch what you say here, darling, remember? It's just you and I." She leaned up and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "And there is nothing wrong with anything we've done." She brushed his nose with hers.

He looked down at her cautiously, a slight tease in his voice. "I'm not sure I should believe you. You fibbed before, so how do I know you are not fibbing now?"

She smiled. "Would you like me to call Clarkson and ask him to reiterate everything that he told me? About how all of that is perfectly normal and completely safe for the baby?"

He rested his forehead against hers speaking quietly. "You're sure?"

His face and his tone were so sweet she thought she might cry. "Yes, very."

He pulled her in to a hug, holding her against him and rubbing his hands up and down her back in long, wide caresses. "I'm so very happy, Mary." They stood like that for several minutes, until he pulled away, tugging her hands to join him in an overstuffed chair by the window.

She sat on his lap and curled in to him, her cheek on his shoulder, nuzzling in to his neck. "Let's buy the cottage, Matthew. Total privacy and we can sit like this and watch the ocean any time we want." She kissed his cheek. "And for the record," she whispered suggestively, "I liked the kitchen but the bed is so much cozier."

_Fin!_


End file.
